Tortoise in the TARDIS
by Jesa463
Summary: The Doctor receives a strange call for help on the psychic paper. He ends up rescuing a tortoise from the clutches of Chuck Stanch and Linda the Unkempt. Can The Doctor help poor Winnifred find her friend before she meets a Canadian tortoise and forgets her old tortoise back in Portland, Oregon? Crossover with Come, Thou Tortoise by Jessica Grant. DISCONTINUED


**A/N: This is a crossover with a book I'm currently reading by Jessica Grant called _Come, Thou_ _Tortoise_. I'm enjoying it very much and I think Audrey would be an awesome companion to the Doctor. I just love how the words tortoise and TARDIS sound so similar.  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the tortoise, or _a_ tortoise, sadly. I don't own Linda, Chuck or Audrey: they belong to Jessica Grant. And, sadly, I don't own the Doctor. Moffat owns.**

* * *

Chuck is pacing, _Lowering the Bard_ in hand. He's been doing it for hours. I've been watching him from the window of my castle. It's making me dizzy. How can he move so fast. He paces a few more times, then sits in a chair at the kitchen table, bouncing his leg up and down, then shoots right back up and begins to pace some more. It's an endless cycle. He stumbles through his lines. Will it never end. Then he tosses the book on the table pointedly.

That's enough, he says. I can't do this anymore. I need some fresh air. What about the tortoise.

Yeah, what about me.

I cant leave you here alone, can I. He looks at me and runs a hand down his face. Paces some more.

I thought you were done with that.

He sits down in the chair and jiggles his leg. He's thinking. Where is Linda. Late. Again. He walks towards me and squats down outside my castle, peering through the window at me.

What do you want.

He reaches in with both hands and grabs me. He brings my face up close to his. There is evil in his eyes. Let's go for a little walk, shall we?

Help. He's going to do it. He's going to throw me in the Willamette. Save me.

I'm flailing my arms and legs at the speed of molasses with every ounce of energy I can muster. Linda, where are you. I don't want to die. I feel one of my claws dig into his flesh. Success. I am quickly thrust onto the ground next to my pool. Maybe that'll teach you.

Ouch. Bloody thing got me. Chuck is cursing under his breath as he runs cold water on his wound. I barely drew blood.

I hear the door. Linda's home. Finally.

She walks into the kitchen to find Chuck plastering Band-Aids to the scratch. What a baby.

What happened to you, she asks.

Damn thing scratched me, says Chuck and nods in my direction.

What did you do to her.

Nothing. I just picked her up and she bloody attacked me.

Don't listen to him. He was trying to kill me.

Is that all, says Linda raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms over her chest.

Yeah, Chuck answers.

No, it isn't.

I was going to take her out with me for a walk. I needed some fresh air.

A walk.

Liar. You were going to throw me in the river.

Yeah, a walk. So.

Didn't anyone tell you that you can't walk a tortoise.

Obviously not.

Whatever, he shrugs and pulls on his long coat. I'm going for a smoke. Damn thing hates me, he mutters. He leaves and slams the door loudly.

Linda laughs and shakes her head at him. She opens the cold rectangle of the fridge and takes something out. She walks over to my castle and plops down two large pieces of lettuce in front of me. Thank you, Linda. You are now my favourite.

Did he scare you, hmm. She pats the back of my shell.

That's an understatement.

It has come to my attention that I am under attack. Chuck is obviously trying to off me because of my temporary, emergency allegiance with Linda. I begin to eat both pieces of lettuce as fast as I can. I'm going to need the energy to defend myself against the evil Chuck. Until I can formulate a plan to escape this apartment and find Audrey, it's me against him. I hereby declare war on Chuck Stanch.

* * *

The Doctor is sitting in the captain's chair, arms crossed over his chest, with his feet propped up on the console. Amy and Rory are sound asleep in their room on the TARDIS. He is utterly bored. Actually, bored would be an understatement to what he's really feeling right now. Why do humans have to sleep so much, he asks himself. Time Lords hardly have to sleep at all. Waiting for them to wake up is agony for him. He was never good at waiting. Patience is for wimps, he says. Four days in a lounge nearly killed him. He simply can't do it. His life is always so fast-paced, no time to catch your breath, jumping from split seconds, to last minutes.

That's why he occupies his thoughts with ideas on where to whisk the Ponds off to next. Planets, galaxies, eras. There was so much to see, so much to do. Over twelve-thousand years old and he hasn't even made a dent in it. He could take them to see ... wait, no ... she may still be cross with him for smashing that bust on her ... again. Or he could take them to visit the planet ... unless they still blamed him for that freak-meteor shower that pulverized the capitol building. It was no use. How could he have run out of adventures to take them on, he asks himself in frustration.

Then he hears a strange noise coming from somewhere on him. He sits up in his chair, bringing his feet back down to the glass floor and searches his person for the source of the noise, patting each of his pockets. He squeezes his thumb and index finger into the inside pocket of his tweed jacket and pulls out the leather flip-over case. The paper glows orange before writing appears on the apparently-blank surface. The Doctor squints at the words and reads them out loud.

_Help. He's going to do it. He's going to throw me in the Willamette. Save me._

Well, that's odd, he says and analyzes the message again. Firstly, the message: Who's throwing who into the Willamette, and why? What do they mean by the Willamette? Secondly, the punctuation: if it's a cry for help, there should be exclamation points. Shouldn't there? Very odd indeed._  
_

He thinks for a moment. Willamette, Willamette ... of course! The Willamette river in Portland, Oregon.

He's bored and he can never resist a message on his psychic paper. The Doctor jumps up and punches in the co-ordinates to where the message says: the Willamette. He's running around the console flipping switches, pulling levers and pushing buttons. The TARDIS jolts to a start as she is propelled through the Time Vortex.

Geronimo!

...

_VWORP! VWORP!_

The TARDIS materializes next to a vast and winding river. There is a chill in the air, as it is December. A bridge hangs in the distance, suspended over the Willamette. The Doctor steps out the doors that open inwards with a creak and pokes his mop of hair out, swiveling his head around to survey both sides. He saunters off down the street wielding his sonic screwdriver. It whirs and buzzes and flickers green as it locks on to a signal. The signal of whoever sent the distress call to his psychic paper. He follows the sonic trail down a street of small townhouses and apartments. The sign on the corner reads Taft St.

Two girls are walking down the opposite side of the street in front of the Doctor. In the distance, a man in a long coat enters an apartment building. He waves the sonic in front of a house with a large wooden door and he is met with a deep, loud dog bark. A Doberman, or a German Shepard, perhaps. A big dog. A scary dog. He moves on. He briefly processes each dwelling on both sides of the street, then moves along down the sidewalk. He almost passes by the apartment building on the end of the street until the sonic makes a strange noise, causing him to retrace his steps. The sonic blinks and hums. This is the place. The light and the noise lead him up some stairs and to a door. He knocks, slips the sonic into its rightful place inside his tweed jacket, and waits for an answer.


End file.
